Our Ruptured Bond
by Creative-Spirit615
Summary: *BIG SPOILERS* Castiel leaves the Winchesters in a daze. He's low on power, Jack is dead, Belphagor is gone (for now), Chuck threw another Apocalypse at them, and his own 'family' has deserted him. All the while Dean is becoming more distant and angry. Sam just lost Rowena, one of the closest people to him. What are the Winchesters to do and will they survive? Only Chuck knows...
1. Chapter 1

p style="text-align: left;"He couldn't even look at me as I spoke those last words to the person I had once trusted the most in the world, "It's time to move on for me." For the past few weeks he had looked at me with so much hate and disgust, when he would look at me in the eyes at all. I understood originally that it was his mother and what had happened with Jack; but still, I do not understand where I fit into that equation. I merely took Jack under my wing in the beginning, I saw him as my son. He still is, for I know he can't truly be gone. I would be giving up if I indulged into that idea. But with Dean, I do not understand where I had personally offended him and he wouldn't give me a straight answer if I asked anyway. I assumed that after the death of Mary, he would blame himself, as he always does; but no. Instead he took it out on me and Jack. After everything Dean and I have been through together, whether it was a demon hunt or another Apocalypse, we always had the other's back. What changed?/p  
p style="text-align: left;"The thoughts race through my brain and I cannot pinpoint a moment where I had betrayed him since Mary, I was always there to comfort or console him. I always felt that was my job regardless if he was grieving or not. Even so, back before God betrayed all of us, Dean would do the same for me. He always checked on me, no matter his own mental or physical state. Somehow even when his health was a detriment, he would still worry for me. It was a touching sentiment and I believe I took it as more than it actually was. With all this strain and anger in Dean, I see that this is how he truly sees me; as nothing more than an acquaintance, someone he can use for help. It would make sense seeing as how he interacts with Sam through all of this. No snapping or vague statements; they still have their bond. I believe that the one I once had with Dean is gone, if it was ever there in the first place. It would not be the first time my delusions of grandeur had led me to a fantasy that I wished were true. Still, even as I had walked out of the bunker, I couldn't help but think of the first moment I had seen Dean. Trapped in Hell and screaming for his brother; the strain in his voice and agony for being trapped there for 40 years. The sweat and the tears mixing on his face, his body torn and bloody; hooks keeping him in place while he writhed in pain and anguish. He was in a pitiful and deeply fearful state and I felt an urge to help him and no power in Heaven or their rules would stop me. For a normal human, it would be intolerable and the suffering would be far worse. But Dean is no normal human, that I can attest to. After I gripped him and raised him from that place, he went back to work with his brother and fought the fight. Even on his lowest days, Dean would find a way to push through and finish a job or hunt, because that's who he is. Strong, resilient, and above all, tenacious; in everything he does. Especially with something like this, if he doesn't believe I deserve redemption, then there's nothing else I can do. No one can force Dean Winchester to do anything, and that means me as well. He has Sam and it has always been apparent that's all he needs. I'm not needed anymore./p 


	2. Chapter 2

I downed another shot of whiskey and felt the anger wash its way down my throat. The bitterness still stayed and the only face that remained in my mind was Jack's; even through everything he did, he never truly said he was sorry for what happened to Mom. Sam and I had just gotten her back and that 'kid' took her away from us, from me. For that, he can never be forgiven; no matter what Cas says. He doesn't understand the feeling and I doubt he ever will. He's still an angel and even with being on Earth among humans for 11 years, he doesn't have all the emotions we do. Sure he feels pain and guilt, but not the emptiness that comes along with losing a parent. Two of them at that. More thoughts of Cas rushed to my mind, but I shunned them away. I couldn't start worrying about him, he was the one that left. I meant what I said to him; whenever something has gone wrong, it's always because of something that has to do with him. The Leviathans, plans with Crowley, the civil war in Heaven, Jack; all because he was "trying to help". Thanks for the 'help' Cas. I used to trust him, but that time has long passed.

My phone rang and on the second ring I looked to see Sam was calling. It was 3 in the morning; why was Sam calling? I picked up in a rush, just in case something went wrong at the bunker.

"Sam? Everything okay?" I asked immediately, already setting down my drink on the dark rim stained counter.

"Yeah but where the hell are you? And where's Cas? I woke up and went to the kitchen to get some water and no one's in the bunker." Sam sounded confused and tired, I could practically imagine the crease in his forehead. I inaudibly sighed and prepared myself for his reaction, knowing he wasn't going to like it.

"I'm at a bar off Maple St, and Cas." I hesitated because I didn't know how I wanted to tell Sam that I was the reason Cas left, again.

"He left. Said he was done." I stated simply, if he wanted to know more, he would ask. I took another quick swig and clenched my teeth as the liquid burned down my throat. There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment; I looked to see if the call had disconnected.

"I'm confused, what happened? Why would Cas just leave like that? Dean, what did you say to him?" He asked with a hint of accusation in his voice. I said a lot of things, and you wouldn't like most of them.

"He screwed up the plan Sam. Rowena would still be alive if he hadn't dealt with Belphagor, we would have handled it. Afterwards." I said, letting that anger back into my voice, I couldn't help it; but I tried to control the emotions and shove them back down where they belong. I heard Sam suck in a breath at the mention of the red-haired witch but I knew he wouldn't mention her.

"Yeah but do our plans ever work? No, and that's not Cas' fault, it's on all of us. When stuff happens, we deal with it together. You used to believe that." Sam said and I could feel his 'Sam Winchester Puppy Eyes' burning into the back of my head. Thank Go- goodness I didn't have to see him; I wouldn't have been able to get out of the bar without begging Cas over the phone to come back. It wasn't like I was completely devoid of guilt over what I had done and said, but the anger overrode it by a million.

"Sam, I'm buzzed and you're tired, why are we talking about philosophical shit this early in the morning?" I asked, my voice taking on a defensive tone; I still had the rest of my whiskey to finish and I didn't want to talk about this anymore. I had contemplated hanging up, but thought better of it, I wasn't going to be that cold.

"Dude, you're more than buzzed. And I'm fine, but I know you're not gonna be back for a while and I don't want to wait up for you to stumble back in. I'll see you later, Jerk." Sam said, finishing the conversation. I hung up and shoved the phone back in my pocket, observing the bar around me. The glasses suspended above the bar, some still dappled with drying water marks. A bartender scrubbed diligently at the counter; her hands moving in an almost robotic fashion, something gained when doing a job for so long. It was the same thing with hunting, the same kinds of jobs became repetitive at times. Salt and burn the bones, decapitation, Dead Man's blood, and the list goes on. There are always those cases that stumped Sam and I, and they seemed to be more frequent being in the middle of another Apocalypse. No matter the case though, I still did my job and finished it; and if that meant me dying in the process, then let it happen. Cigarette and cigar smoke wafted through the air, masking the room in a gray daze; a few older people were littered throughout, each staring down their shots and glasses, wondering how many more they were gonna put back before the sun rose. I thought the same thing but ultimately settled on finishing the one I still had, then head back to the bunker and try to get some sleep.

I woke up to the sound of knocking at my door; its harsh sound made my head feel like it was going to explode. I grabbed my pillow and shoved it over my head, shouting at Sam since there was no one else at the bunker. Not anymore.

"Dude what the hell? It's only 9 am!" Sam ignored me and strode into the room, carrying his laptop per usual. I sat up slowly, the room zooming in and out of focus for a moment; grasping my pulsing forehead I groaned at him to turn off the lights.

"No, you're the one who drank too much to get over Cas leaving. My sympathy is gone. Anyways get this, there have been multiple towns seeing strange omens. Cows turning up dead, weird weather patterns, and multiple 'animal attacks'. Sounds like our kind of thing; could be Chuck." He explained while scrolling through news articles and online newspapers; I barely noticed because I was focusing on what he said about me and Cas. I wasn't drinking because of Cas; I was drinking because I like to drink and my life is shit, so there's that.

"Sounds like you can handle it, I'll hold the fort down here." I mumbled and went to lay back down but Sam grabbed the pillow from under me and threw it across the room.

"Absolutely not, the bunker will be fine. We're going to Arkansas. We leave in 20 minutes. Now get up and please take a shower." Sam crinkled his nose and walked out of the room just as quickly as he had entered. Great, now I have to put on the monkey suit and pretend I'm not completely hungover.

The receptionist at the morgue led us to the back room where the medical examiner was waiting to show us a few bodies that had been 'attacked' by some unidentified animal. Sam and I knew that wasn't the case, it was probably a lone werewolf that had just transitioned and hadn't gotten used to his new furry situation. We walked into the cold, bare room and 3 bodies were waiting for us, all zipped up in dark blue body bags; the only thing they were missing was a bow on top. The medical examiner, a young guy in a plaid buttoned shirt and lab coat walked over to shake our hands. We accepted and flashed our badges; they were new because Sam refused to cut his damn hair and it was looking too long to match his much younger picture.

"Agents Roth and Collins, we're here about the supposed animal attacks that occurred a few miles from here. The coroner said that it was probably a coyote." Sam said, sounding skeptical about the coyote since we both knew it was bullshit. Coroners never knew what they were talking about; they arrived on the scene, spouted their two-sense and then drove back home and 'congratulated' themselves on a hard day's work.

"Well it was definitely not a coyote, the scratches around the abdomen and face are too large. The heart is also missing, so there's that. Coyotes or any other common predator around here don't exactly do that." The examiner said and there was sarcasm in his voice, seems he didn't believe the coroner either. He had walked over to each body bag and unzipped to the vic's midsection, their grisly remains already starting to stink. I wished Sam and I had invested in Vick's a while ago, it would have saved me a lot of gag-inducing smells. We shared a knowing look and observed the bodies; multiple gashes on the stomach, arms and face. Also note the large orifice where their hearts had been, the torn skin laying in lumps around the hole. The skin was pale and most of the color had drained but there was light bruising on the neck and I stooped closer to look. Two little puncture holes were present on the side of each vic's neck, the purplish hue disguising the holes if you didn't look close enough. I looked over at Sam and caught his eye, ushering him over.

"What's up? Did you notice something?" He asked quietly; the young examiner had walked to the other end of the room and was typing something into a computer. I pointed to the small holes and Sam's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"A vampire? But the heart is gone, that's a werewolf's MO. Is this like that case with the monster hybrids?" He wondered aloud, using his gloved hand to inspect around the holes.

"The ghoupire you mean, and maybe, but how would there be a werewolf-vampire hybrid. There's never been anything like it in any lore we've ever read." I countered, still confused and trying to wrap my head around any possibility of a were-pire hybrid. Sam shot me a disdainful look at the mention of the ghoupire, he never liked that name but whatever. We took a few pictures of the corpses, said goodbye to the examiner and told him we would be in touch, when in fact we wouldn't. Sam and I headed back into the main part of town to conduct some research the old fashioned way, at the library.

After 3 hours of digging into the lore and every werewolf and vampire book out there, we came up with zip zilch nada. What else is new? Sam rubbed his temples and shut yet another leather bound book closed with a determined thud.

"So this sucks." I said and Sam nodded in agreement as he went to grab another book from our dwindling pile of materials. Before he had the chance to open it I grabbed it from his hands and placed it back down.

"No, I'm starving and I know you are too. We're taking a break. My eyes are gonna go crossed if I keep reading about fang anatomy." I said with finality even as Sam gave me reproachful look. He could give me all the looks in the world, nothing would stop me from devouring a post-hangover lunch.


	3. Chapter 3

I glanced down at the meager possessions I had grabbed before leaving the bunker; a few extra dress shirts, ties, pants, my angel blade, and a few hundred dollars I had earned by hustling pool. Dean had taught me and one night I managed to trick an older man that was beyond drunk; it was quite an easy task. Unfortunately it still made my stomach knot with guilt; seeing that poor man stumble around after I essentially stole his money was not simple. Dean on the other hand, relished in the 'art' of pool hustling and whatever else he could scam from people. It was a part of his character; not one of the best qualities but it was what made Dean… Dean. Even after leaving the bunker and forcing myself to eradicate the boys and more specifically Dean from my mind, it was futile. I would always think about him; it was a detriment but it was my cross to bear. We'd been friends and close allies for years upon years and that closeness and companionship doesn't simply go away. No matter how much I wished to forget his jade eyes and the haphazard scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. I thought back to when he had told me that I couldn't stay at the bunker, when I was human; the amount of surprise and betrayal hit me and I didn't believe him at first. That was one of my lowest moments and he had kicked me out, leaving me alone and dejected. I understood later that Gadreel was the one that influenced Dean's decision but it still stung; he could have told me or eluded to my brother's plans. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a banging on my motel room door. I whisked my angel blade into my hand and walked towards the door and I had only opened it a fraction when someone burst through. A short figure with a mop of auburn hair rushed past me and I barely had a moment to register the person before he started to talk.

"What the hell is going on Cas? There are demons on my tail, a horde of ghosts haunting a town, and whatever else is happening out there that I don't know about." The man said and looked at me with a mixture of fear and confusion. My mouth was agape and I looked the man up and down before finally regaining my composure.

"Gabriel?"

"So the Empty just brought you back because you beat him in a game of Rock Paper Scissors? Only you would do that Gabriel." I rolled my eyes but I couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness that my brother was back and seemingly unharmed. He grinned and looked the same as always; amber eyes that glowed with mischief and a few strands of hair flopping in his face.

"How long have you been back brother?" I asked, wondering if he knew anything regarding Chuck and the new Apocalypse. He likely didn't.

"About 2 weeks, and I come back to a shit show. I already had a few run ins with some demons; something about Dad being back. What happened Cas and where are the other chuckleheads? Surprised they're not here with you." Gabriel stated and looked around the room as if they would spontaneously appear out of thin air, they weren't angels.

"They're still at the bunker. I left them. We are… no longer a team. And as for Chuck, he betrayed us. He's been playing us this whole time, everything that has ever happened was because it was a part of his 'story'." I said, feeling the crushing wave of hurt and abandonment wash over me again. Everything the Winchesters and I had suffered was because of Chuck and his so-called 'favorite show'. We were not chess pieces and we didn't deserve to be pushed around the board to satisfy his delusions. Gabriel's eyes widened and he looked distraught, as he should have. Chuck was our father after all.

"I don't know what's more surprising; you leaving the Winchesters or Dad being a douche." He said, and it was true. I had many problems with the boys before but it was nothing we couldn't handle together; but this felt different and I knew that if I had stayed, the situation would have worsened. Gabriel rose from his position on the edge of the bed and started to pace, his hands reaching into his pocket to retrieve a piece of hard candy he had stashed.

"So what exactly is he planning on doing? What's his endgame?" Gabriel inquired around the candy in his mouth and I shook my head for I didn't know the answer. All I knew was that it was the end. And that was the most terrifying part, the unknown ending.

"I do not know, all Chuck said was that this was the End. He just snapped his fingers and plunged us into another Apocalypse." I stated and looked down at my hands; rough and calloused, the nails bitten down from repeated attacks of nervousness and sadness. It was as they called a 'bad habit' but it was the only thing I could do that lessened the overwhelming weight on my shoulders and the guilt that was building inside me. Gabriel was still looking at the floor, no longer pacing but still vibrating with a sort of nervous energy. I couldn't blame him.

"What about the other angels? What happened to Lucifer and the other Michael? I mean after he killed me anyways." He said with a hint of sarcasm and detectable agitation. He never got to come back from the alternate dimension after saving Mary and Jack. He didn't even know about Michael possessing Dean or the final battle with Lucifer.

"There are very few angels left actually. Only about 3 in Heaven and a mere few on Earth. Lucifer is dead and after Michael killed you, he came into our world. Lucifer betrayed us and took Jack's grace. Dean made the foolish decision to let Michael inhabit his body to fight Lucifer. After the final battle, Michael didn't leave Dean's body and it took us a while to find him and eventually kill Michael. It was actually Jack who did it." I smiled sadly and felt that familiar pang in my heart when thinking about Jack's naïve optimism and openness. It made the pain worse and I knew it wouldn't lessen for a long time. Gabriel smiled a little, a genuine one at that and his eyes softened at the mention of Jack.

"Is he still with the Winchesters? I knew Sammy took a liking to him." Gabriel asked and a lump formed in my throat. I wished he was still at the bunker; but my last memory of Jack was his charred corpse laying at my feet. All because of me.

"Um.. Jack is gone. Chuck killed him." I choked out, the words catching in my throat. No matter how many times I repeated those words in my mind, I had refused to believe them. Gabriel's eyes widened and a sad realization passed over his face. He ran his hand through his hair, staring at the ground, completely silent; which was very uncharacteristic for him.

"Dammit.. he was just a kid." He said and I felt the same way; he was a kid. A sweet and impressionable kid that didn't deserve the fate he received. Gabriel went over and started packing up my things and tossed me my angel blade. I looked to him incredulously and his jaw was clenched tight. When he turned to me, his eyes were burning with a determined fire. He grinned and shrugged my duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Well, what the hell are we just doing here? Let's go get this bastard."


	4. Chapter 4

The waitress had barely put down the burger and my mouth was already watering; I couldn't say the same thing when she placed Sam's salad on the table. It was definitely not the same and he couldn't make me believe it no matter how many times he scolded me on eating healthier. I loved the guy but he could be a pain in the ass when it came to health. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as we ate, but it was soon broken when he asked me about the one thing I didn't want to talk about.

"Dean, you know we need to talk about the inevitable issue right? Cas is gone and you're not handling it well already." Sam said and he eyed me warily, waiting for me to explode. Something I've done a lot recently; it wasn't my fault, my freaking mother just died. Instead of biting Sammy's face off, I kept eating and thought about how I wanted to plan this conversation out.

"I know he's gone, but that's not my fault. I told you before, he's the one who walked out the door. And what do you mean I'm not handling it well?" I asked defensively; I was doing peachy. Sam raised an eyebrow and looked down to his salad for a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Dude, you were out at 3 am drinking like crazy. You haven't done that in a long time and I'm pretty sure the last time you did was when we thought Cas died, right around when Jack was first born. There's been a pattern even if you refuse to see it." He said and it struck me because I was not drinking to stop thinking about Cas. It was everything that had happened over the past week that drove me to down 5 shots of whiskey. I did try and keep Cas at the back of my mind because I felt like it was impossible to totally erase him out of it. I had known the guy for a long time and we had shared a lot of memories and crap together. Whether it was our monster hunting lives or personal problems, we would vent to each other; that changed though and I had needed to remember it. If not, I wouldn't have stopped thinking about him and it would have brought a whirlwind of trouble. Sam snapped his fingers and I didn't realize that I was so lost in thought; I grimaced and went back to eating.

"Did you hear what I said Dean?" Sam asked and looked at me quizzically, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Yeah I heard ya. Sometimes I just don't like responding, especially when you're completely wrong. None of this has to do with how I feel about Cas." I stated simply, already regretting this conversation and wanting it to be over as soon as possible. Sam obviously didn't get that memo and continued grilling me.

"Well, how do you feel about Cas?" He asked and put emphasis on the word and I tightened my grip on my glass. This was torture.

"Sammy, you know how I feel about him. He was my best friend, but he let that kid continue living here even after the whole soul thing. Jack killed Mom and Cas didn't do anything about it. I'm indifferent." I said and clenched my jaw, thinking about how close we once were. I couldn't have said the same thing at that time. Sam looked upset at the mention of Jack but I didn't care, I would say whatever I wanted about him.

"Dean, he's still your best friend. That didn't change. Just because you guys are going through some sort of lover's quarrel, doesn't mean you stopped caring for him." He said and continued on eating as if I could bypass what he had said. We were not having a lover's quarrel. We weren't lovers at all.

"I don't know what the hell you're going on about, but I'm done with this conversation. We still have this case to deal with and I for one don't want anymore people getting murdered. Can we agree on that?" I said with finality, shutting down the option for more questions and digging into my personal feelings, which I liked to keep buried. Sam just nodded solemnly, his lips in a tight line. I could tell he wanted to keep talking about it, but I wouldn't have let him if he tried.

"So there's no mention of were-pires in the lore, but maybe the poor bastards got bit by a vamp and ran into a werewolf on the way outta Dodge? A double injection of monster serum?" I said and thought about the possibility; honestly, anything could be possible. Sam tilted his head and thought about it too, I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"Maybe, but what's the possibility of it happening to 3 people around the same time? It doesn't add up. Unless they were all friends or at the same place at the same time, some kind of freak coincidence. Which is a norm in our line of work." He said still picking at his salad, moving bits of lettuce gingerly around the outside of his plate. He hadn't been eating much and it was noticeable in his face; he was always tired. He had bags the size of carry-ons situated under his eyes, his face and lips drawn into a permanent frown. Not of disappointment or uncertainty, but sadness; a deep, racking sadness. And there was nothing I could do to help him, he was alone in his grief. We all were at that point.

"We got any witnesses? Leads?" I asked and picked up the last few fries on my plate and shoving them into my mouth. Sam just grimaced and pulled out a manilla folder that was thick with police reports and medical files. He plopped it onto the table and opened it, revealing some case reports and eyewitness accounts.

"Mrs. Owens. Said she was walking through the forest the evening our vics were murdered; she heard a scream and was on the phone with 911 when she encountered our first guy. She didn't actually see the murder and when the police arrived she was in shock, naturally. The two others had been offed already as well. They were spread out, but in the same 1 mile vicinity, so maybe you're right about them being connected somehow. All of them are men in their mid 30's but I couldn't find anything else linking them." Sam explained and I looked through the folder; all different jobs, ethnicities, and no family links. I did notice though that they all were frequent at the same bar on the outskirts of town; maybe drinking buddies who all got a little too drunk one night and was easy prey for our hybrid to feast on.

"Yeah but look, they all go to the same bar at the edge of town. Hell of a coincidence huh? Could be easy pickings for our were-pire." I said and slid the folder back to Sam, he nodded a little and scanned the page. He circled the bar's name with a red pen and pulled out his phone to check the location and directions.

After an hour of in-depth look at all our vic's personal lives and maybe a shot or two, Sam and I headed back to the bunker to conduct more research. We hadn't had a chance to dig into the Men of Letters lore and we may have missed our hybrid amongst the stacks of files and books. We settled into the middle table and spread out our mass expanse of papers and books, the scent of old parchment and dried ink filling the room. Small particles of dust floated underneath the green lamps, illuminated by the soft golden light cast from the bulbs. The only sounds to be heard throughout the bunker were pages flipping, the occasional sniff from Sam, and our collective breathing. It was a normal day, a good day. Something we hadn't had for a while. We had learned to embrace that feeling of calm and to hold onto it for as long as we could. It only took one phone call from a stern officer to change our moods and plunge us back into the gritty part of hunting. The part that weighed on our shoulders like a ton of bricks. The blood, the grief, the pain, and everything in between. People relying on us to find who had killed their family member or friend, and they could never even know what actually committed the crime. Not to mention, we would never really be in contact with them again, we would move on as soon as the monster was dealt with. On to the next case. Day in and day out. But that was our jobs, and I didn't want to stop. I couldn't even if I tried. The whole time I had spent with Lisa, I still made sure to keep my gun on the bedside table, keep the pantry stocked with salt, and a devil's trap underneath our front door mat. The life never truly leaves and I didn't want it to. It was a part of me, as much as it was a part of Sam too. We were the guys who saved the world, and no one, not even Chuck would stop us from keeping everyone safe.

Three hours had passed and we had no more information on our supposed were-pire; I left to take a break and walked into my room. As soon as I had moved into the place, I made it my own; it was my first real room since my childhood home. The only home Sam and I had known for a long time was Baby, and she was great, but we needed someplace to call ours. I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge; thoughts rushing through my brain. Chuck, the case, our new Apocalypse, Rowena, Mom, Cas. I felt the grief wash over me and the pain of losing Mom, again, felt like a punch to the gut. The wound was still fresh and I knew it wouldn't heal for a while and Cas didn't understand that. He didn't understand a lot of things. I then noticed something laying on my bedside table, situated right by my lamp. A tingling feeling went through my body and I looked closer to see that it was the mixtape I had originally given Cas. On top of it laid a simple note; "I know this was a gift, but I assume you want it back. In your eyes I probably shouldn't have anything that was once close to you. I would only ruin it." I stared at the note, rereading it over and over again. Was this how Cas really felt, or was this some leftover anger and grief after Jack? I remember giving him the tape; how vulnerable I had felt, seeing as how that mix of music was close to my heart. I had heard him playing it a few times in his room; the familiar notes floating from his closed door. It had made me smile to think that it meant that much to him, but there was no happiness and affection when I had read that note. Only an empty feeling and it hurt, as much as I had hated to admit it. He left me a piece of my heart, and he never wanted it back.


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriel had left, with my angel blade, to seek out more angels for help. I was unsure of how well that plan was to go, seeing as how few of us there were left. He also mentioned something about raising the devil and his little 'helper' to assist us. I knew that Lucifer would not be keen on helping us with anything; but maybe if he still had a grudge against Chuck, he would want to join the fight. I was skeptical of everything at that moment; nothing seemed real or even remotely right. I was still at the motel room I had rented and was searching through police reports and the likes to see if there were any strange occurrences that might have been caused by Chuck. I needed to know how powerful he was and what his next step was. Nothing piqued my interest and I was close to contacting Sam to see if they had any leads or possible cases. I ultimately thought better of it; knowing if I spoke with Sam, he would ultimately tell Dean and it would not end well. I sighed and thought of anyone else who could possibly help us with this massive of a fight. I didn't want to call on Claire because she was still far too young to be involved with such a life-threatening problem. Jody was busy hunting with Donna in Minnesota; they had started teaming up more frequently to hunt in the Northern States. Garth had not been heard from since the debacle with Michael and I assumed he didn't know me very well. My mind raced and I couldn't think of anyone else; I had never felt so alone. Even with the knowledge that Gabriel was back, I still felt deserted and abandoned. I had started to acknowledge that what happened with Mary was not my fault and that guilt had subsided significantly. But I still felt remorseful over how I left the Winchesters; especially at that vulnerable point in all our lives. Dean had hurt me though and I had dealt with his emotionally jarring blows for long enough, I was not going to subject myself to it any longer. I had understood his anger and anguish over his mother; but I was not the sole purpose of all our tribulations. He should have known that and deep down he probably did; but he masked it quite well. He never did divulge into his emotions and it was a main characteristic of his, so I had learned to accept it; but when it came to me, he was divided. He was either ecstatic at my many returns from the dead, or he was biting my face off for a minor inconvenience we had encountered. No matter what Dean had done, my feelings for him never unraveled or ceased. Even at that point, when he had wanted me gone and looked at me with hatred, I felt the same as I did when I had rescued him from Hell. Because I knew that underneath everything, all his pain and trauma, he was still the green-eyed hunter that would sacrifice himself for the greater cause. That was what I loved so much about him; even though I had wished many times before that he fix his self-destructive habits. I knew however that these habits would never go away and that he would always put humanity before himself.

"He always did put humanity at the forefront. But he also did the same for you Castiel." A voice spoke and I looked around wildly, wishing I still had my angel blade. I saw no one inhabiting the room and I thought that I might be delusional but the soft voice spoke again.

"I am speaking within your head angel, you are not going insane. I have been wanting to speak with you for a little while but I needed to wait until you were alone. The Winchesters would not like my presence. At least I don't think they would. I am unaware anymore." I could tell it was a woman's voice; it was lofty and held a deeper undertone of suspicion and notable concern. I tried to pinpoint this disembodied voice but I couldn't think back to any other entity that could master such a task.

"You do remember me. It was a while ago; I was the one who brought back Mary Winchester. And I see that she is no longer upon this Earth." She said and sounded solemn when addressing Mary and slightly confused. It was the Darkness. Amara.

"How are you talking to me? The Winchesters and I thought Chuck had sent you away again. We assumed you would never return." I asked no one in the room but I knew Amara had heard my question and I could feel her presence. It was troubling but also a little comforting, knowing that we could possibly have an additional ally.

"No, I left his side and took a 'vacation' of sorts. I distanced myself, much like you are doing at this moment; which I find peculiar. What I really wanted to talk to you about was the matter at hand, Chuck. He approached me a few days ago and asked for my aid. He is low on power and is slowly realizing that he cannot handle this Apocalypse himself. I refused and sent him on his way; I know my brother and this 'story' of his is important. He won't give up easily and I fear that he will go to great lengths to keep the story moving." Amara said and I felt her voice rattle in my head, bouncing around and letting the words sink in. He was weak and that meant he didn't have the forces to take us down properly. The calculations ran through my mind and I tried to figure out where he would be and what he was planning.

"Don't try it Castiel. He's not that weak. You cannot take him on alone. Even the Winchesters would not be foolish enough to try that. Well, maybe Dean would." She chuckled slightly and I felt it resonate; it was a light-hearted sentiment and I knew that feeling all too well when it came to Dean. I shook my head and tried to manage my thoughts; though it was hard considering there was a cosmic entity speaking straight through me.

"Maybe not, but if I gather forces or rally enough hunters.. maybe we could." I grasped at anything; I couldn't have sat idly by while Chuck regained his strength. I couldn't have let him ruin the world.

"Yes you could, but I don't see you including the Winchesters in any of this. Why is that?" She asked but seemed to figure it out a few seconds later, inducing a slight 'oh'. I winced and felt the small sound float through my brain, like a breeze disrupting fallen leaves. The whisper left me cold and a shiver ran up my spine.

"You left them, and Dean. He hurt you. He feels as though you failed them. I see that you don't feel that way." She said quietly as my memories and feelings made their way to her. There was a wrongness to that; she had access to all my thoughts, it was violating.

"I don't mean to intrude angel. I want to help and defeat my brother just as much as you all. Don't take me as the enemy." She said and I knew she wasn't lying. She had helped before and I trusted her word.

"I know, but what are we going to do? Who do we ask for help? My brother Gabriel is already on his way to ask Lucifer for assistance, no matter how fruitless that endeavor might be." I said feeling that sense of helplessness again, but soon regained my hold on the task at hand. I couldn't let myself falter; there would be no room for error.

"I know he has a weak spot; it's a bullet wound on his left shoulder. I know he has a connection with Sam Winchester through that wound. That could be helpful later on. We could use that weakness." She said and her own thoughts were racing, I could almost feel her heartbeat thumping through my mind. I worried though about Sam and how that could affect him; he was used to torture but that was nowhere near to being connected to God himself.

"We will ensure that Sam stays safe. Don't worry angel. And we will also make sure Dean is safe. They are the most important humans on Earth. They will survive." She said with finality; even though she sounded so sure of herself I couldn't help but feel a twinge of uneasiness. They were my friends and I didn't want them to be injured or possibly killed; I wanted so desperately to deal with it myself, but knew that would be suicide. Honestly, at that point I didn't care if I died; all that mattered was humanity and keeping the Winchesters safe. I would always bleed for them. I had almost forgotten that Amara was still inhabiting my thoughts; there was a light tsk and I shuddered.

"Castiel, my dear, you matter too you know. Why do you think my brother has brought you back so many times? He wouldn't do it for his own selfish reasons." She said and I raised my eyebrow, that sounded almost exactly like something he would do. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was right.

"Okay, we can talk about semantics later. Right now, we need a solid plan. Even with Lucifer and his 'helper', the Winchesters, and us, that's still not enough to take care of Chuck. We need more defenses; do you know of anyone to help us with this?" I asked and looked around the room; for what I don't know. It just felt foreign to talk to no one in particular, even though I was used to feeling prayers this way. However, I hadn't received a prayer in a long time.

"I have an idea, but until I am sure of their assistance, you will be kept in the dark. Just work with your brothers and we will be in contact soon. Good day Castiel." Amara said and she whisked from my mind, her presence and pressure departing; it left me with an emptiness and ache that racked through my brain. I stumbled for a moment but soon regained my composure; I had work to do.


	6. Chapter 6

We arrived at the suburban house that was parked at the end of the cul-de-sac; it looked like the stereotypical middle-class establishment and I rolled my eyes. White picket fence and all. The only thing missing was two kids and a dog. But Sam and I knew that the guy living there was not the stereotypical business man in a suit and tie. We had driven back to Arkansas to finish our case, but without anything leading to a were-pire. Even with jack squat to go on, we decided on interrogating a few more folks and find out what kind of guy our suspect was. For one, he was an alcoholic who had recently relapsed and apparently he wasn't the happy-go-lucky drunk either. He had a reputation of violence when it came to his many nights at the local bar. They eventually stopped him from going to the bars in town, so he resorted to hard liquor at his own house. His ex-wife explained his 'complicated' history with us; the guy had an affinity for releasing his anger on those around him, and she had been on the receiving end more than once. Sam and I assumed this guy had probably gotten too drunk one night and stumbled through the woods for whatever reason and was jumped. It was a situation that was common in our line of work. We rolled up to his house and I cut the engine, the rumble settling out and fading.

"What's our plan? Burst in guns blazing or are we gonna interrogate the bastard?" I asked as Sam was pocketing the demon knife.

"I wanna know what this guy is, I say interrogation." He said and cocked a gun, the silver handle reflecting a sliver of sun onto the roof of Baby. I nodded and got my own weapons ready; silver and a long blade, we needed both for that sucker. We walked up to the house and knocked on the door, our muscles tensed and ready for the incoming fight. There was a sound of glass shattering and we shared a quick look before I kicked the door in, the shock running up my leg as we stepped in. I held my gun up and made my way towards the back of the house, where the kitchen was presumed to be. A trail of blood was visible on the tile, the metallic stench already filling the room; I followed the trail and stopped as we heard another crash but that time it was accompanied by a muffled shout. The kitchen was littered with empty fast food bags and dirty dishes were piled in the sink; I scrunched my nose at the smell of rotten food. There was more blood pooled in the back of the kitchen, right where a door was ajar, the wood splintered down the middle. Wood chips and slivers mixed with the sticky blood, and crunched as we made our way down to the basement. The stairs creaked and groaned, I winced and tried to step lighter so we wouldn't be clawed to death before getting to our suspect. We inched our way down and noticed our guy crouched in the middle of the basement, various knives strewn across the floor. His hands were threaded through his hair, his head bent.

"Hey! Get up slowly, don't make us shoot you, asshat!" I shouted and clenched my gun closer in my hand, ready to aim with deadly accuracy. The guy rose slowly, almost robotically and turned to us. His eyes were glazed and almost sightless; he seemed to look right through us. The thing that got me was the 'meat' he held in his mouth; blood was gushing and flowing down the front of his body, soaking his shirt till it clung to him. He grinned with a row of jagged teeth and unclenched his hands which were also slick with blood, but outfitted with long, sharp nails. Long tendrils of hair hung from his hands and they stuck to his nails, like he dug the hair from his scalp. I grimaced but kept my eye on the bastard, he could have leapt at any time. There were deep bags under his eyes and even those were sunken, driven back into his skull; he looked lifeless and out of his gourd. Sam and I continued down the stairs until we were a few feet from the guy, the whole time he simply stood there and watched us. He was gaging us; our movements and tracking how strong we might be. Sam was equipped with a long serrated knife and held it out, preparing to slice our suspect's head off.

"What the hell are ya doing man? Who else did you kill, besides the three poor saps in the woods?" I half asked and half shouted at the guy. He simply cocked his head to the side, a deeply disconcerting grin spreading across his face. Sam scrunched his face and narrowed his eyes in concentration, those hazel eyes burning with an unknown fire. I was taken off guard and our 'were-pire' charged towards me and knocked me off my feet, the air leaving my chest. I was knocked backwards and felt his hot breath billow in my face, the stench of blood and rotten flesh made my stomach churn. I heard Sam yell but didn't focus on what he said; I was focusing on not being clawed to death. The hybrid's mutilated hands grasped my neck, his nails digging into my flesh and I clenched my teeth. White, hot pain shot through my body but I still held my gun in an iron grip. I slammed the butt of the gun into the side of were-pire's skull, the smacking noise sent him careening to the side. I scrabbled upwards and saw Sam swinging his knife towards the neck of our guy but missed as the hybrid darted forward with a crazy amount of speed. He swept his claws and caught Sam across his thighs, his jeans ripping and blood squirting from the wound. He yelled and fell backwards, his back smashing into a tool shelf; a multitude of hammers, screws, and other tools fell around him. The sound reverberated around the small basement and it rang through my ears. Our hybrid let out a deep guttural laugh, almost maniacal and snapped his head back to me; I held my gun in front of me and looked to Sam for a second. He was unconscious. I growled under my breath but kept my gaze fixated on the monster.

"Stupid hunters, you have no idea what you're getting yourselves into, do you?" He gurgled and blood erupted from his mouth suddenly, dripping down his front and splattering on the ground. Spittle flew from his lips and I mentally wanted to give the guy a mint. I could smell the stink rolling from his mouth, even though I was standing a few feet away.

"And you're gonna what, kill us? Trust me buddy, I've taken on some pretty big fish. You're stunt monster number 5 to me, ain't nothing special." I grumbled and wanted to pull the trigger right then and there to shut him up, but I wanted to know what the hell we were dealing with. Again he laughed and the sound was the only thing heard besides my own ragged breathing.

"Oh no, I will not kill you Winchester. My master would not take kindly to that. He wants you broken and deeply maimed, but not dead. I am more powerful than you know boy; I am a special 'concoction' if you will. This vessel was unfortunate enough to be worn down and useless as a human. So I took over. Bred specifically to hunt you and your brother. How does it feel to be the one hunted?" He chuckled and flashed his razor sharp fangs, the dusty fluorescent lights making them gleam with a yellowish tint. Slivers of unknown 'meat' still hung from his lips and they dripped saliva and thin blood.

"Then why the hell did you kill those bystanders; fast food?" I asked and wished that I could go to Sam's side and make sure he was okay, but I had needed to take down this bastard first. The hybrid shook his head and the tendrils slapped across his face, the sound making me squirm.

"How else do you think I would be able to get your attention?" He grimaced and it made sense; whoever his 'master' was knew we would be drawn to this case. Even if it was concocted for his own sick reasons. That was all I needed to hear; I plunged down on the trigger and the bullet made it's way between the monster's eyes. They rolled upwards into his skull and he stumbled backwards, the blood spraying and masking the ground in red. His body landed with a smack, the blood smearing and sloshing across the floor. I let out a deep breath and the tension left my shoulders; I slid my gun into the back of my belt and felt the claw marks on my neck. They weren't too deep but still stung as my fingers swept across them, leaving my hands bloody and sticky. I rushed over to Sammy and knelt by his body. His jeans were sliced and soaked through with blood, streams of it still running off onto the ground.

"Sammy?" I said and shook his shoulder slightly, trying not to move him too much until I knew he was okay; he had hit his head pretty hard on the way down. He groaned and his eyes fluttered open, his face scrunched in pain.

"What the hell happened?" He asked groggily and tried to push himself up quickly; I grasped his arms and held him still for a moment. No need for him to careen back over because he had a concussion.

"Whoa there man, ya got hit pretty hard. Take it easy getting up. I'll explain everything when we get back to the bunker. We got more research to do." I said lowly and hoisted him up slowly. Great, now I gotta put a blanket down on the seats; there ain't no way in hell I'm getting blood on Baby's leather.


End file.
